


Of Cognac and Selfies

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Gen, Intoxication, Office Party, Post- Skinny Dipper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 07:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3011063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry decided that there was not enough alcohol in the world for office karaoke.</p><p> </p><p>"There you are. Sorry, I got wrapped up and one thing led to another..."</p><p>"Not at all."</p><p>Jo tilted her head slightly, and then smiled at him warmly. "You wanna get out of here?"</p><p>Henry blew out a breath and stood up quickly. He was a little unsteady on his feet, but not overly so. He wasn't intoxicated enough as not to take an out when he saw it. "Please."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Cognac and Selfies

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhhh, our fic collab is finally here!!! 
> 
> Make sure you keep track of the rest of this collab by looking in the collection! It's seven fics, unrelated, by seven different authors, each day up to the mid-season premiere. And yes, Henry's getting drunk in each of them. Angst, crack, ships sailing? Well, who knows what'll happen, so make to stay tuned! :D
> 
> I do not own _Forever_. Thanks for reading, and I hope you all enjoy the first of many - seven - stories here in our lovely little collection!

The cacophony of the eleventh precinct around him was only one of many reasons that Henry had been hesitant about going to the office party. The others were, of course, the alcohol, the secret Santa, and the fact that he'd just killed a man less than two weeks ago.

Henry wasn't sure what was worse: the music blasting from a stereo placed strategically in the room so that the first thing one was greeted by when walking into the party was blaring Christmas music, or the fact that more than half of the participants of the party were trying to sing along while intoxicated.

Henry sighed and stared into the ripples of his punch. He had never been to an office party; he had no idea what was considered the appropriate amount of time to spend there without appearing ungrateful. The truth was that he didn't belong in a place like this, much less after the horrible events that had-

"Wow. You are _really_ channelling that Christmas spirit."

Henry raised his head slightly at the familiar voice. "Jo." He cracked a smile and leaned back in his chair. "Just when I had given up hope on a familiar face."

"Come on." She pulled off her scarf and tossed it into the chair next to him. "You know everyone here."

Henry cast his gaze around the office. "Knowing _of_ people is a different concept than truly understanding them." He looked back at her. "I admit that I don't know people at the precinct as much as I thought," he admitted. "Can I get you a drink?" he asked, getting to his feet.

"I can-"

"Please," he interrupted. "I've been sitting far too long, it'll give me something to do," he said fondly. "What's your choice of poison?"

Jo pulled off her scarf. "Just the punch, I'm driving home tonight."

"Very well. Just a moment."

"Hey, doc, I see your partner got here finally!" Hanson intercepted him at the punch bowl. "I was beginning to think that she wasn't going to make it."

Henry didn't need to look up; he recognised the tone, and the way it was said. The way the syllables fell, the way the sentence was phrased, and the offhand tone; Hanson was drunk. Or, at least, he had been drinking.

To be honest, Henry didn't think it was such a bad idea, that.

He glanced up, smiling out of reflex. "Your partner, I believe you mean."

"She spends more time with you than she does with me."

"Now, Detective, I hardly think it's a fair comparison when I-"

Hanson held up his hands. "I can see what's going on here."

Henry raised his eyebrows. "Beg your pardon?"

Mike pointed at him. "I know your game." And then held up his free hand that wasn't holding onto a glass, in a _so what?_ kind of manner.

Henry tilted his head. "I'm afraid I don't-"

"Oh! Hey! Margaret!" He slipped off into the hoi-polloi of people clustered around the office, leaving a confused Henry with a cup of punch in hand.

"Were you going to get that for me or just stand there with it?" Jo asked, stepping up next to him and taking the cup out of his hand.

"I'm sorry," Henry apologised. "I was waylaid by Detective Hanson. He seemed to be trying to say something, but then he took off."

"Oh, you've met him on alcohol." Jo followed his gaze. "You should have seen him last party. Him and John, our tech, I swear I've never seen two grown men act like children than those two."

"I've met him on alcohol," Henry said, looking at her. "We've gone for drinks?" _Once._

"That's different, though." Jo reached for another glass and filled it partially with the cognac from their makeshift bar. "And _you_ , if I recall, have missed every other drinks session we've had." She handed him the glass. "You've got a lot of catching up to do."

A little surprised, Henry sipped at it with a smile nevertheless. "Perhaps." He paused and inhaled sharply before- might as well, he had very little left to lose right now- throwing the drink back in a few gulps.

Jo looked half impressed and half shocked.

"Stop me if I try to do something I'll regret," he said, leaning closer. Then, he grinned and, taking a modest step back, reached for the punch ladle instead of more alcohol.

"Henry Morgan. You didn't tell me you had a wild side," Jo teased, nudging his shoulder.

Henry's grin was reflected back towards him in the surface of the punch. "Oh, you've barely begun to scratch the surface." He gestured back to the chairs where Jo had deposited her coat. "However, an office Christmas party perhaps isn't the best place for all of my secrets, so we'll leave it at that, and this lovely punch." He held out his glass towards her, and she tapped hers against it in the preempted toast.

"To mysteries, then," Jo said in that same teasing tone.

"Hey, Jo!"

"Oh, Julia, hey. Back in a minute, Henry, alright?"

Henry nodded. "By all means, Detective. Don't feel obligated to-"

"I don't feel obligated," Jo joked, before leaving Henry to converse with her co-workers. "You're a big boy, Henry. Don't do anything I wouldn't."

Henry chuckled. He wondered what exactly that boundary was.

 

　

Henry decided that there was not enough alcohol in the world for office karaoke.

He gulped down the remains of his wine and leaned back in the chair at Jo's desk. He had relocated after the karaoke had begun, but the distracting tones of drunken, overworked police officers seemed to carry throughout the office.

"There you are."

Henry looked up as Jo wound around a chatting group and into view.

"Sorry, I got wrapped up and one thing led to another..."

Henry shook his head. "Not at all. You're more familiar with these people than I am. Besides, you were right, I'm a big boy. I can fend for myself." He smiled cheerfully, the warm glow of alcohol heavy beneath the motion.

Jo tilted her head slightly, and then smiled at him warmly. "You wanna get out of here?"

Henry blew out a breath and stood up quickly. He was a little unsteady on his feet, but not overly so. He wasn't intoxicated enough as not to take an out when he saw it. "Please."

Jo chuckled. "Fine by me." She looped her scarf around her neck.

Henry reached for his scarf, but then stopped. He hesitated for a split second before reaching for Jo's coat, holding it out for her.

Jo reached out to take it from him.

"Ah-" Henry pulled back slightly. "No, let me."

Jo raised her eyebrows, but allowed Henry to help her into her coat. He had an intense sense of satisfaction that she let him, and he found himself chuckling as he reached for his scarf.

"I see. You turn into one of those affectionate men when you're drunk," Jo remarked, buttoning her coat.

"Aren't I always affectionate?" He liked to believe that he was. Two hundred years could turn one into something of an introvert, but when he was in public, he tried to keep up appearances...

"Kind," Jo replied. "Loyal, dedicated. I'm not sure ‘affectionate’ is the right word, though. Probably to some people. Like Abraham."

Henry shrugged slightly. "Well, I'll take it as a compliment nonetheless."

Jo smiled. "Come on, Henry. We'll discuss your finer points in the car."

Henry trailed along after her, eager to leave the renditions of out of key Christmas carols behind him. His ears were still ringing even after they had stepped outside, although he wasn't sure if it was the singing or the bells that were attached to the door that caused it.

　

 

"- and then he completely wrecked the car," Henry said, unsuccessfully trying not to laugh at the memory, "after I specifically told him that it was a bad idea to be out in the weather." He held the door open for Jo leading into the apartment. "I don't know how many times he could have saved both himself and myself a headache if he had just _listened_ to me..."

"Henry? You home?" Abe peered around the stairwell. "Oh, it's both of you. Evening, Detective."

"Hey, Abe. Henry was just telling me about you, actually."

"Oh, really?" Abe raised an eyebrow, looking at Henry. "Good things, I hope?"

"I was telling her about the time that you took my car out and hit that patch of black ice and rear-ended the Chevy in front of you," Henry said fondly, struggling with his coat.

Abraham stilled, his eyes boring into Henry's.

"Jo, I've got this, well, Abe does, Bordeaux, an '89. It's a _beautiful_ drink, you have to try it. Let me get-"

"Henry," Jo interrupted, laying her hand on his arm. "I've got to drive home, I can't-"

Henry looked around at her; he watched the resolve in her eyes falter.

"... Okay, _fine_."

Henry smiled. "Wonderful. Just a moment. Have a seat, please." He gestured to the sofa and then headed into the kitchen.

"Excuse me a minute," he heard Abe say, and a moment later, his son followed him into the kitchen. "Henry, what are you doing?"

"I'm... entertaining," Henry settled on, reaching for two glasses. "The office party was, uh, how do I say... well, it was something." He had no ideal word for what it had been, honestly.

"No, I mean, what are you _doing_? I crashed your car when I was _nineteen_ ," Abe hissed.

Henry waved his hand in a flourish that nearly knocked over the wine glass. "I left out the pertinent details, Abe. Really, I'm not that drunk."

"Which means you _are_ drunk." Abe inhaled, and then exhaled heavily. "Henry, you know what happens when you drink."

"I'm not going to say anything," Henry retorted. "Trust me."

"I do." Abe paused, then jabbed a finger at the wine glasses. "I don't trust that."

" _This_ is good," Henry replied smartly, and left the kitchen with both glasses in his hand. Abraham didn't follow. "Here you go," he said, handing it off to Jo. "I promise you, this is perhaps the best wine you'll taste in years." He sank onto the sofa next to her. "Cheers."

Jo seemed to be struggling against a smile. "Cheers." She took a sip of the wine and then licked her lips. "This _is_ good."

Henry sighed pleasantly. "Yes. I had forgotten just how much so. I gave it up awhile ago, but recent events push the envelope on whether or not it's an acceptable time to relapse, so I gave into the allure." He sipped at his wine thoughtfully. "Not that I'm condoning it, but... coping mechanisms."

Was he babbling? Not only babbling, but babbling about things that were better left unsaid, like the after-effects of the murder he had committed in his own laboratory? He gulped back a mouthful of the Bordeaux to steady his nerves. And partially to shut himself up.

But the damage was done; Jo wasn't smiling any longer. Instead, she was looking at him with a cross mixture between pity and sadness and acceptance.

Henry shook his head quickly. "No, forget that." He smiled. "We were having a lovely time, forgive me."

Jo smiled slightly. "You don't have to explain coping mechanisms to me." She leaned back into the pillows and fingered absently at the ring on the chain around her neck. "I thought... I mean, when he died, I thought I would never get over it. I guess I still haven't." She shrugged. "Like you said when we met, you never do."

Henry winced. "That was a poor choice of words."

"But it's true. You're always coping after something like that. Even when you say you're fine, you're not. Alcohol helps," she added, tilting her glass. "So does talking. But talking's harder. Alcohol is easy and you don't have to worry about the judgment."

Henry sighed and tapped his fingers on the stem of the glass. "... Yes." He sipped at the wine. "But also a coward's way out, in that vein," he added, raising an eyebrow.

Jo shrugged. "You don't have to be strong all the time."

Henry looked at her closely, squinting through the haze that the accumulating alcohol was creating. Sometimes, he forgot, that Jo had gone through situations similar to his. Very similar, immortality notwithstanding, naturally, but having the person you loved the most leave as well as having to end a life in order to protect others. She was an officer of the law, and he was... an officer of his family? Of his craft? Henry wasn't sure, but there were similarities. He felt a little wobbly, though, both mentally and physically, so maybe he wasn't the best judge of character right now.

"Oh, before I forget." Jo reached for her coat, patting at the pockets. "Where did it... hang on. I'll be right back."

Henry shook himself out of his thoughts, looking at her inquiringly. "Jo?"

"Just a minute." She set her wine aside and hurried downstairs.

Henry heard the apartment door close and then the shop front. The consolation, he supposed, was that she had left her coat. That meant she was coming back. He drank the last of his glass and twirled it absently between his fingers, trying not to think too much. It had always been a problem of his, especially in dire circumstances. Especially when he had-

The apartment door _thunked_ closed again; Henry looked up on reflex.

"Sorry, it must have fallen out in the car." Jo's cheeks were tinged pink from the cold and there were tiny snowflakes in her hair. Henry wondered when it had started snowing. "I don't even know why I drove, I'll have to get a cab home. I shouldn't have let you talk me into the wine. Here." She held out a small, wrapped package to him. "Merry Christmas."

Henry, taken momentarily off guard, simply stared at the package in her hand. He wasn't sure what he was meant to say. So long ago had he celebrated Christmas with anyone other than his own son, and it wasn't even Christmas to begin with.

"Henry?"

He startled back to reality again. "Sorry." He reached up to take it from her. "It's not Christmas yet. And I'm disappointed in myself in having to say that I don't have anything for you. I couldn't accept knowing-"

"Just open it, Henry." Jo sat back down.

Henry paused before smiling wryly. _Well, a gift horse..._ "If you insist. But I will be getting you something." Although he wondered what, as he hadn't been in the practice of buying women anything for decades, and even then, Jo was something different than Abigail had been to him.

He slipped his finger under the fold of the wrapping paper and peeled it away, revealing a plain white box. He pulled the lid off to find-

"A cell phone?" he asked, tilting his head. He picked the phone up out of the box, weighing in in his hand.

"I know you don't like them," Jo replied. "But you're a part of the team now and getting a hold of you over the antique shop's line isn't always going to cut it. That's actually my old phone, I didn't think you'd want something brand new, so it's had some wear but... I programmed my number into it. You can call me. Any time. Alright?"

Henry stared at the little black box. There was a small scratch on the screen, signs of wear on the send button. He disliked these mobile phones for the sake that they eliminated face-to-face conversation. So, then, why was his throat suddenly so tight?

He forced himself to smile, and swallow and look up. "Thank you. Jo."

She smiled. "Yep. Now, since I've made the decision to get a cab, can I get another drink and I'll try to teach you how to use that." She nodded at the phone.

"What? Oh, yes, sure. Right away." Henry curled his fingers around the phone and stood up.

　

Twenty minutes later, Henry had successfully figured out a speed dial for Jo and the basics of texting.

They were sat side by side on the couch, Henry leaning infinitesimally too close as Jo explained the camera part of the phone to him. He nearly pitched over and had to brace himself on the armrest. He reached for her hand to turn it so that the camera angled towards him.

"Now, if you want to take pictures, you hold it this way. Landscape, right?"

Henry nodded. "Landscape," he repeated.

"Same with videos, but that's a lesson for another day. Whenever you want to take the picture, you hit this." She pointed at an icon on the screen. "Here, sit back."

Henry obediently sat back, his hand falling away from hers.

"Well, don't lean _away_ , I can't take your picture if you're not in it." Jo rolled her eyes.

"Oh! I thought you were taking a photo for the, uh, Caller ID." Henry shifted closer to her again, eyeing their faces reflected back from the phone's screen.

Jo chuckled. "No, we're doing Henry Morgan's first selfie."

Henry frowned. "What's a selfie?"

He turned his head to look at her just as she took the picture.

Jo burst out laughing. "Henry, you're hopeless!"

"What? What? Did I do it wrong?" Henry looked between her and the now blank phone screen.

Jo just laughed at him, reached over to turn his head to face forwards, and said "Smile". Henry was confused and suggestible. He smiled.

　

 

"You should come over for Christmas," Henry blurted out.

Jo paused on the doorstep, looking back at him. "What?"

"I mean..." Henry cleared his throat. His face was warm in the cold winter air. He wasn't sure if it was because he was actually flustered or if it was the wine or the cold. "I'd enjoy your company, on the actual day. Or New Year's. If you..." He searched for a word, came up blank. "Want," he finished pathetically.

Jo looked almost as surprised as Henry felt by the offer. He hadn't meant to say it, out loud, nonetheless, but he found that he liked the idea more than he had realised.

"But, it's Christmas, don't you... I don't know, you and Abe?"

Henry shook his head. "We have our little traditions, but Abe would love to have you. Unless you're busy," he added quickly. "I didn't mean to sound presumptuous."

Jo blinked, but then shook her head. "No. I'd love that." She smiled; for the second, third- no, he had lost track, time of the night, Henry was cheered by the proceedings. "I'll give you a call."

Henry nodded. That was probably for the best; he probably wouldn't remember how to work his new phone come morning.

"Thanks for the drinks. And the company. I'll be back for the car in the morning."

"Are you sure that you don't want Abe to drive you?" Henry asked, eyeing the cab doubtfully. Apprehension gnawed at the base of his skull, irrational but unshakeable. He would not give it into, not at this moment.

"No, it's fine." Jo turned back to the cab. "See you on Christmas."

"Night," Henry replied quietly as Jo got into the cab. He watched it pull away until the cold biting at his ears prompted him back inside.

Henry had just finished locking up and turned around, nearly walking smack into Abraham. "Abe!" he protested, stumbling back a step.

"Well?"

"... I invited her over for Christmas."

Abe raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"And she got me a cell phone." Henry groped for the phone in his pocket and held it out, too close, to Abe.

"... Well, now I _know_ you're drunk." Abe rolled his eyes and reached over. "Look at you, you're a mess, Henry." He fidgeted with the unbuttoned bottom button on his vest. "What happened to your jacket?"

"It's upstairs, I was hot." Henry huffed a breath. "I'm going to take a shower and retire for the night. You should go to bed, too."

"Uh huh. The apartment's upstairs, Henry."

"I know that," Henry muttered. "I'll be up in a minute," he said, heading for his lab.

"No, you'll be asleep downstairs in a minute." Abe gripped his shoulders. "Come on, whatever's down there can wait."

"No, really, I'm quite capable- I have a- a _thing_ to check up on-" He found himself incapable of stringing together words. He pursed his lips and tried to think past the giant, looming idea of _Christmas_ in his mind.

"I insist." Abe patted his shoulder. "Let's get you up to bed."

Henry exhaled heavily, his breath rushing out in a giant sigh. "Very well, then."

Abe chuckled. "That's my dad. Come on."

　

 

When Henry woke up in the morning, he was face down in the blankets on his bed. He was still wearing the same shirt he had been last night, wrinkled beyond help now, but his vest was gone and his shoes were missing. His head was throbbing and his skin clammy.

There was a glass of water on the nightstand, along with two seltzer tablets and a note.

_Take these when you wake up, tonic later. Downstairs if you need me._  
 _Abe_

Henry sluggishly dropped the tablets into the water and sipped at it. Something was buzzing under the mass of blankets. It took him a minute to realise it was his new phone, and it took him even longer to dig it out from under the bedding. He squinted at the screen.

_1 New Message_

_Thanks for the drinks again._  
 _We'll have to have another night in._  
 _Looking forward to Christmas._

_Jo_

Henry smiled blearily and tried to shake the hangover, tired fog from his brain. The _reply_ button was escaping him. He couldn't remember how to get the on-screen keyboard to come up. He stared at the small print for another moment before huffing and letting the device fall back into the blankets. He'd figure it out. Later.

He had a long way to go.

Jo could always re-teach him when she came over for Christmas, anyway.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (In which I suck at writing drunks, so he doesn't get crazy sloshed. Now, if only there was actually a selfie of Jo and Henry with Henry looking at her instead of the camera...)


End file.
